My Big Mouth
Another name in the firing range, a target in sights, distant confrontation
Like a drone strike, with fingers on the trigger
A volley of vicious vowels, sadistic sibilance to cut deep in thick skins
A constant cacophony of consonants attacks.
Alliteration wounds the weak, a stream of assonance filling eyes, spilling tears
Such pain cannot be spelled out, no weapons available to defend
Trapped in tongue tied torture. The silence speaks for itself.
‘Ugly’ ‘fat’ ‘disgusting’ ‘kill yourself’ – the combat continues for evermore
The attacks like incessant waves, pounding fragile shores
Enemies advance further as the vanquished retreat in panic, their world crumbling.
Reality disintegrates
Each callous comment fragments the pillars of trust, the fabric of life blown up
One solitary tweet triggers onslaught, others scent blood. An army waits ready.
They caress the grenades resting in their hands, cradling the newfound power
Tyrannical possibilities lie before them
A war of words lingers. A pained frontier moves forward.
Each soldier faces an inner struggle but this becomes a collective trauma
Hurt channelled through the barrel of a gun, charged in a phone screen
Those loading the cannon felled by its recoil, all shattered by shell shock
The hater becomes the hated, becomes the hater. The predator the prey who bites back.
Locked in an eternal spiral of isolation
Their incendiary invective fired like mortar into a virtual No Man’s Land
Raw craters, like shrapnel wounds, scar souls – pain is set loose
Free in a twisted release. Warped healing from the chasms of reality.
Later – too late
Sorrow and guilt, or the fear of retribution, brings about search for appeasement
And the liars’ excuse – ‘Me and my big mouth’
A distorted insult hangs in the air, though silence clings on like a lonely survivor
Rotting words line the battlefields but decay eventually
Discarded to the backs of minds. A new target is set.
